


Kenma and Bokuto's "Super Awesome Bro Bonding Road Trip"

by worms212



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (just a bit though), Adulthood, Akaashi makes a brief cameo, Bokuto Koutarou Being Bokuto Koutarou, Bonding, Friendship, Gen, Growing Up, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Humor, Kozume Kenma is So Done, Road Trips, Summer Vacation, Third Year Kozume Kenma, chapter 401 clowned on me before i could finish this, dubious geographical references, look someone has to write these two getting into shenanigans and it might as well be me, t rating is for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:26:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25233112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worms212/pseuds/worms212
Summary: “Bokuto,” Kenma beckons tersely.Bokuto shrinks in on himself a bit, still focused on the stretch of highway out in front of them. “Yeah?”“What’s this route you have mapped out here?”ORKenma and Bokuto take a road trip. It goes about as well as you'd expect.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou & Kozume Kenma
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27
Collections: Genuary 2021





	1. 2000s American Pop

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this before chapter 401 came out, so I was still basing the premise for this fic off of my own personal "Kuroo is a big nerd who studies astronomy in college and ends up with a PhD" headcanon. Given that Furudate cannot stop me and that Businessman Kuroo is boring, I am choosing to ignore canon for the purposes of this fic.
> 
> Also, sorry if the formatting is a bit weird? I copied and pasted from google docs and can't be assed to fix it, but it's still readable.

“This is a  _ disaster _ !” Kenma shouts at the blazing sun, throwing his arms up in exasperation.

Beside him, Bokuto is waving one hand at him placatingly, the other tapping frantically at his phone.

“It’s not, we can still salvage things,” he assures Kenma in a way that makes it seem like he’s not so convinced of that himself.

Kenma rounds on him, jabbing an accusatory finger toward Bokuto’s broad chest. “This is your fault!”

Bokuto backs away from his furious companion until his back collides with the driver’s side door. He’s equal parts devastated and relieved that there are no other cars on the road; they may be all alone out here, but at least no one is around to witness this.

They’re both already starting to sweat buckets, and the sun is still blazing hot despite the hour. Bokuto’s trying to remain positive, but it only takes one look at Kenma for him to know they’re both thinking the same thing:

_ This may have been a mistake. _

* * *

In all fairness, Kenma was apprehensive about the whole ordeal from the beginning; but in Bokuto’s defense, things didn’t start out that way at all. The plan was really very simple: leave in the morning, drive the three hours to Kuroo’s university, and spend the weekend letting him show them around his new city. So of course Kenma had to get stuck travelling with Bokuto--alone, of course, because Akaashi backed out last minute, and no one else in their right minds would willingly drive for several hours with Bokuto Koutarou at the wheel. But it was that or pay for the train and deal with the crowds, which was at least marginally worse in Kenma’s eyes, not to mention it would make Bokuto pout for the entire weekend.

And that’s how Kenma finds himself being hurried out the front door by his mom one Friday morning, the sound of Bokuto honking the horn reverberating through the house. He tosses his duffle bag into the back of Bokuto’s old sedan and slides into the passenger seat.

“Quit honking, you’ll wake the whole neighborhood,” he mutters in lieu of a greeting, dropping his backpack between his feet and buckling his seatbelt.

“Sorry!” Bokuto says sunnily. “Kenma! Are you ready for our Super Awesome Bro Bonding Road Trip?!”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” Kenma asks with an air of boredom as he takes in the interior of Bokuto’s car. Somewhat surprisingly, it’s fairly clean inside, but it screams Bokuto. There are not one but two volleyballs rolling around in the backseat, and two keychains hang from the rearview mirror--an owl and a miniature replica of the Skytree. On the dashboard sits a Jackasuke bobblehead, likely a gift from the Black Jackals management upon signing his contract. Bokuto himself is beaming at Kenma from behind a pair of aviator sunglasses, decked out in a backwards well-worn Fukurodani baseball cap and a Hawaiian shirt, despite the fact that they aren’t going to the ocean. Somehow, he makes Kenma feel underdressed in his simple t-shirt and shorts.

“Come on, Kenma, show some enthusiasm!” Bokuto whines. “When was the last time we got to hang out just the two of us?”

Kenma thinks for a moment. “I’m pretty sure this is the first time.”

Bokuto looks perplexed for a moment, but he seems to disregard his own confusion rather quickly as he starts the engine and backs out of Kenma’s driveway.

To Bokuto’s credit, he’s actually a pretty good driver, but he keeps fiddling with the console trying to get some old CDs to play. The car is old enough that it doesn’t have any sort of Bluetooth or AUX interface for playing music, so they’re relegated to either the radio or CDs.

“I have no idea what’s in here,” he admits to Kenma. “This car was my mom’s, and she left her CDs in here when she passed it on to me.”

Eventually, Bokuto manages to hit the right buttons and the CD skips for a few seconds before the music starts. Immediately, Bokuto cringes and Kenma starts shouting to block it out as some awful early 2000s American pop begins to blast out of the stereo (which Bokuto has up WAY too high, which Kenma thinks might explain why he always feels the need to be yelling).

“Fuck, fuck, turn it off!” Kenma shouts, scrambling to lower the volume before his ears bleed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Bokuto shrieks, trying to keep his eyes on the road while simultaneously attempting to remedy the situation before being murdered in cold blood by Kenma.

“Why do you have this?!”

“I told you, it’s my mom’s!” Bokuto finally manages to get the finicky CD player to turn off, and the car falls silent. He reaches for the radio dial, but Kenma swats his hand away.

“Eyes on the road, I’ll do it,” he mutters, turning on the radio and flipping through local stations until he finds something he deems tolerable. Bokuto makes a left and brings them out onto the highway. They drive in relative peace and quiet for a while, Kenma engrossed in a game on his phone and Bokuto humming contentedly along to the radio. At some point, he asks Kenma to help him navigate, and when he goes to open maps on his phone, Bokuto shakes his head and gestures to the glove compartment.

“We’re doing this the old fashioned way!” he announces jovially.

Kenma leans forward and opens the glove compartment. Inside, amongst several other miscellaneous brochures and items, he finds a paper map and unfolds it to reveal a carefully marked out route--one that doesn’t take a straight-line path to their destination, but rather twists and turns on multiple detours along the way.

“Bokuto,” Kenma beckons tersely.

Bokuto shrinks in on himself a bit, still focused on the stretch of highway out in front of them. “Yeah?”

“What’s this route you have mapped out here?”

Inexplicably, Bokuto brightens again, as though he’d been expecting Kenma to be mad about something else entirely.

“I figured if we’re making the trip, we should make some stops along the way, see the sights!” he answers gleefully. “I did some research one night instead of cleaning my apartment, and there’s so much cool stuff we can go see!”

“Shouldn’t we just take the most direct route? We’re going to visit Kuro, not explore half of Japan.”

“You’re no fun, Kenma! What ever happened to taking the scenic route?”

Kenma opens his mouth to protest but Bokuto glances mischievously at him and cuts him off.

“Ah, but Kenma, two years of knowing Akaashi has taught me well, and I’ve already thought of rebuttals to all your protests!” he declares. He begins rattling them off on his fingers, hands still perched on the steering wheel. “One, we left plenty early to take some detours and still make it to Kuroo’s by tonight, I checked the math twice. Two, I mapped out the route very carefully and I know we won’t take long at any stops along the way. Three, I currently have a full tank of gas and we’ll refill it when we stop for lunch. Four, there’s an extra charger for you in the center console.”

Successfully rebutted, Kenma merely grumbles and pulls out his phone to send out a distress signal.

“See?” Bokuto sounds like he’s basking in his victory over Kenma. “Besides, I’m the one with the driver’s license, so legally, you can’t stop me.”

Kenma’s not sure how sound that logic is, from a strictly legal standpoint, but he doesn’t have it in him to continue arguing, and instead resigns himself to complaining to Kuroo over text.

**To: Kuro [9:47 AM]**

_ bokuto has us taking the “scenic route” pls send help _

**From: Kuro [9:48 AM]**

_ 0 percent surprising lol _

Exasperated, Kenma locks his phone, only for it to vibrate again a moment later.

**From: Kuro [9:48 AM]**

_ seriously though, just think of it as a side quest! it’ll be fun. i have to work most of today anyway _

**To: Kuro [9:49 AM]**

_ fine. but i’m only doing this for you, you know _

**From: Kuro [9:49 AM]**

_ :) _

_ stop texting me and get along w bo!!! let me know when ur like 30 mins out, otherwise i only wanna hear from you if ur in actual trouble. or if it’s to brag about how much fun ur having, i’ll accept that too _

Kenma pockets his phone and scrutinizes the map, suddenly remembering he’s supposed to be navigating. He glances up at the road and briefly considers lying about the directions to get there faster. But he feels bad, not to mention that Bokuto would probably catch on eventually.

“Next exit on your right,” he directs a little too late for comfort, and Bokuto makes a hasty lane change and carries them off the highway to their first destination.


	2. WWAKD? (What would Akaashi Keiji do?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How are the bugs not bothering you?” Kenma asks Bokuto in disbelief after slapping yet another mosquito from his arm.
> 
> Bokuto looks down at him curiously. “What bugs?”
> 
> Kenma frowns. Either bugs think Bokuto tastes awful, or he has too much of a one-track mind to pay them any attention. Either way, Kenma thinks he might be a little envious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I fixed the formatting this time!
> 
> For what it's worth, none of this is based on actual locations. I'm not going to pretend to know shit about Japanese geography or shrines other than what a quick google search could offer me.

Bokuto’s scenic route takes them through small towns for a while, reminiscent of Miyagi and their trips to Karasuno. As the car winds through side streets and back roads, Kenma wonders what Shouyou is up to. He’s probably practicing volleyball, knowing him. Kenma almost thinks that might be preferable to sitting in this car right now--but only almost. At least right now he gets to sit in the air conditioning, even if the a/c in Bokuto’s mom’s old sedan leaves a little to be desired and occasionally sputters and wheezes like a choking animal.

“See, Kenma?” Bokuto urges cheerily as he maneuvers them through the countryside. “Isn’t this way better than driving on boring old highways all day?”

“It’s certainly a lot slower,” Kenma mutters.

Bokuto bristles, and Kenma thinks his hair would have visibly deflated if it weren’t tucked under his hat.

“You’re in such a rush. What, do you not want to hang out with me?” he pouts, sounding genuinely hurt.

 _Shit,_ Kenma thinks. _What would Akaashi do?_

Then, mentally cursing himself for invoking Akaashi’s hyper-specific Bokuto knowledge, he quickly replies, “No, Bokuto, that’s not what I--”

“We’re here!” Bokuto interrupts him, and it’s unclear if he wanted to divert the conversation or just wasn’t paying attention. He pulls the car into a mostly abandoned parking lot and parks with perfect accuracy on the first try. Kenma clambers out of the car, backpack in hand, and assesses their surroundings. They’re in the countryside, that’s for sure; they’ve only been on the road for a couple of hours at this point, but Tokyo might as well be worlds away with how much _nothing_ there is. The parking lot is surrounded by tall trees, obscuring the mountains looming in the distance. The sky is impossibly blue, and Kenma can’t help but feel a little more at ease than he ever does in the city.

Bokuto is already scampering off toward the head of a paved trail at the other end of the parking lot.

“Where’s ‘here’?” Kenma calls after him, slinging his backpack over his shoulders and following reluctantly behind.

Bokuto rounds on him with a blinding grin.

“There’s a famous shrine here,” he explains, pointing down the trail. “It’s only a ten minute walk!”

Kenma feels his face fall. “Walk?”

Bokuto merely laughs off his despair and drags Kenma down the trail with him.

It really _is_ nice, Kenma begrudgingly admits to himself; it’s cooler under the shade of the trees, and it’s actually kind of peaceful, even though Kenma hates exercise and even though the bugs will _not_ leave him alone. The path is strikingly empty, though, considering Bokuto had referred to this place as a “famous” shrine. It’s summer vacation--he figured the place would be a little more crowded.

“How are the bugs not bothering you?” Kenma asks Bokuto in disbelief after slapping yet another mosquito from his arm.

Bokuto looks down at him curiously. “What bugs?”

Kenma frowns. Either bugs think Bokuto tastes awful, or he has too much of a one-track mind to pay them any attention. Either way, Kenma thinks he might be a little envious.

When they reach the end of the trail, Kenma’s heart sinks as he realizes why they’re the only ones here. The place is closed.

Bokuto seems none the wiser, beaming at the structure in front of them. He hasn’t seemed to notice the barricades blocking off the tall red gate to the shrine, or the scaffolding climbing the side of the building itself. Even the whir of construction seems to go in one ear and out the other.

“Come on, let’s get a closer look!” he urges, beckoning Kenma to follow him.

“Bokuto, it’s closed,” Kenma tries to say, but Bokuto doesn’t hear him over the motors running in the background.

“What?”

“It’s _closed,_ ” Kenma calls again, and Bokuto’s face falls. He finally notices that the gate is blocked off, and when his shoulders sink, Kenma actually feels kind of bad for him. When he reaches Bokuto’s side, they stop to read the sign posted on the barricade. _“CLOSED FOR REPAIRS AND RESTORATION,”_ it says. _“We hope to see you again in August 2013.”_

“Did you not check beforehand?” Kenma asks.

“Of-- Of _course_ not!” Bokuto whines in disbelief. “Why would they close during the summer? I’m sure they get a ton of tourists!”

“The shrine was probably damaged in a storm or something,” Kenma posits. “It’s a historic site. They can’t risk anything.”

They stand side-by-side in front of the barricade for a while, admiring the shrine. It _is_ beautiful, with its fading red paint and traditional architecture. It’s among the bigger shrines that Kenma has seen, but in a way it just reminds him of all the others. It would be more beautiful, he thinks, if they could enjoy it in its full glory, unobstructed by all the scaffolding and the construction sounds that are already grating on Kenma’s nerves. But Bokuto has gone quiet, and so Kenma gets an idea. He pulls out his phone and turns around.

“Come on,” he beckons Bokuto, opening up his camera. “Let’s take a picture for Kuro.”

Bokuto’s face lights up and he positions himself behind Kenma. Kenma takes a moment to find the perfect angle, stepping forward so that his own mildly-amused face sits in the corner of the frame, with Bokuto beaming sunnily a few yards behind him against the backdrop of the shrine. He snaps the selfie and sends it to Kuroo as the two of them set off back down the trail again.

**To: Kuro [11:23 AM]**

_image attached_

_bokuto’s “famous shrine”, closed for repairs_

_walked 10 minutes for nothing_

**From: Kuro [11:23 AM]**

_HAHAHAHAHAHA wow_

**To: Kuro [11:24 AM]**

_you responded so fucking fast. aren’t you supposed to be at work?_

**From: Kuro [11:24 AM]**

_i’m on my break!!!!_

Before Kenma pockets his phone, he decides to send the photo to Akaashi as well.

**To: Akaashi [11:25 AM]**

_image attached_

_you could have prevented this._

“Send me the photo too when we get back to the car?” Bokuto asks.

Kenma nods.

They make it back to the parking lot and Kenma cranks the air conditioning up as high as it will go. Bokuto compensates for the noise by turning the radio louder and pulls the car out of the lot and back onto the country road they came in on. Kenma brings his feet up to sit cross-legged in his seat and spreads the map out across his lap. Aside from Bokuto’s quiet humming and the tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel, they’re both mostly quiet as Bokuto drives them onward, hopefully toward lunch.

Kenma’s phone buzzes with a notification from Akaashi.

**From: Akaashi [11:43 AM]**

_Oh no! Is bokuto-san giving you a hard time? Sorry, i have a family obligation this weekend._

**To: Akaashi [11:43 AM]**

_watch your back at training camp, keiji_

**From: Akaashi [11:45 AM]**

_I’m not sure what this has to do with me._

_But fukurodani is going to win._

**To: Akaashi [11:45 AM]**

_i’m not talking about volleyball_

**From: Akaashi [11:46 AM]**

_???_

_Kozume, are you threatening me?_

Kenma opts not to answer, dropping his phone into his lap beneath the map to focus on navigating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very loosely based off of the time I visited the Great Smoky Mountains a few summers ago and we walked an entire trail uphill to an observation tower only to realize it was closed for construction.


	3. Operation "Where The Hell Are We"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You got us lost, didn’t you?” Kenma deadpans.
> 
> “Whaaaaat?!” Bokuto crows, turning his baseball cap around front and pulling it down to obscure his eyes. “Of course not, what are you talking about?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops i moved and started a new semester so i've been BUSY, hence why this chapter took forever  
> i'm estimating one or two more? i hope you're enjoying the ride!

At some point, the lack of sleep catches up to him, and Kenma dozes off in the passenger’s seat. When he wakes up, the car is parked on the side of a residential street and Bokuto has the map sprawled across the steering wheel, pouring over it with his brow creased in concentration. The radio has been turned down to a dull hum; according to the display, it’s nearly 2 PM.

“Shit,” Kenma mutters, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

Bokuto startles at his voice and turns to him, a sheepish expression creeping onto his face.

“Oh, hey, Kenma,” he chimes with false nonchalance. “How was your nap?”

“You got us lost, didn’t you?” Kenma deadpans.

“Whaaaaat?!” Bokuto crows, turning his baseball cap around front and pulling it down to obscure his eyes. “Of course not, what are you talking about?”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Kenma huffs. He snatches the map back and tries to make sense of their surroundings, but it’s pointless--they’re in some middle-of-nowhere town, on some tiny side-street with kids playing in front yards and parents eyeing their idling car warily. But no matter; all they have to do is get back on the highway, and they’ll be on their way. Besides, Kenma’s stomach is grumbling.

“Whatever,” he resigns. “Let’s just drive around until we find a gas station. I’m hungry.”

Bokuto sputters awkwardly, “B-But Kenma, there was this ramen shop I wanted to visit that’s supposed to be the best in the prefecture, and I--”

“And you what? You just want to drive us in circles and hope we find it before I starve to death?”

Bokuto wilts, and Kenma feels kind of bad, but he’s also groggy from his impromptu nap and admittedly getting a little hangry. Nonetheless, he can hear Kuroo (and Akaashi, that bastard) berating him for continuing to find new ways to burst Bokuto’s bubble.

“We can hit the ramen shop on the way back.” The words are out of Kenma’s mouth before they’ve even fully formed in his mind, and he mentally kicks himself.  _ Fuck, why did I say that? _ he thinks. But it’s too late--Bokuto straightens up tall in the driver’s seat and  _ beams _ , so blindingly bright that Kenma almost instinctively raises a hand to shield his eyes.

“Really?” he shouts. “Thanks, Kenma! You won’t regret it!”

Kenma is already regretting it, but he has enough self-control not to admit it. It doesn’t matter, anyway, because Bokuto has already turned up the radio to ear-blistering heights and is putting the car in drive, riding the wave of Kenma’s validation as far as it will go. Kenma merely turns the radio dial down just enough to make it bearable again and leans back in his seat, resigning himself not for the first time to a very,  _ very _ long weekend.

  
  


They eventually find a small local gas station with a convenience store, and Kenma goes inside to peruse the snack aisles while Bokuto fills the tank. He shares a brief moment of mutual recognition with the bored-looking teenager working the register when he enters, and then makes his way to the refrigerated section at the back of the store in search of lunch. Kenma is the only person shopping until Bokuto materializes beside him, stinking faintly of gasoline and extra strength deodorant. As Bokuto begins chattering amiably about sandwich options, Kenma becomes acutely aware of how odd the pair of them must look--a high school student with resting sad face and a newly-minted professional athlete, buying road trip snacks at a small-town gas station in the middle of god-knows-where Japan. The cashier studies them warily while they check out, and Kenma keeps his eye downcast awkwardly and pretends to be interested in the tabloid magazines beside the counter until there’s a plastic bag being shoved into his arms and he’s being ushered back out into the summer heat. (Bokuto insists on paying for lunch.)

Contrary to his chaotic personality, Bokuto is adamant about No Crumbs In The Car, so they walk back up the quiet street to a small park they drove past on the way in and claim one of the picnic tables. Bokuto tears into his sandwich with fervor, downing nearly half of it in one go before Kenma has even unwrapped his. With crumbs dropping from his lips, he reaches into his back pocket, pulls out the map, and spreads it out on the surface of the table, facing himself.

“Okay! Operation ‘Where The Hell Are We’ is a go!” Bokuto declares, downing the last bite of his sandwich.

Kenma stifles a laugh and jokes, “What’s next, codenames?”

Bokuto has the gall to roll his eyes.

“Kenma, I was being  _ sarcastic _ .”

Kenma chokes on his iced tea.

“But no, seriously,” Bokuto continues before Kenma can respond. “Where the hell are we?”

With a cough, Kenma asks hoarsely, “Why don’t you just let me use Google Maps?”

“That’s no fun!”

“Yeah? And are you making any progress just staring at that piece of paper?”

Bokuto goes quiet, scowls at the map, and then relents.

“Okay, yeah, fine. You can use Google Maps. Just to get us back to the highway.”

“Thank you for being reasonable.” Kenma exhales in relief and pulls out his phone. The signal is bad, wherever they are, so the app takes a few moments to load. When the image crackles to life, Kenma blinks disbelievingly at the blinking blue dot marking their location. Bokuto peers over his shoulder, and Kenma can feel the way he freezes without seeing him. A breeze blows through the trees, but it brings no relief.

“Shit, I really did get us lost.”

“You  _ think?! _ ” Kenma snaps, clapping a hand over his eyes. “We’ve been going the wrong way since I fell asleep!”

“Kenmaaaa, come on, it’s only a couple of hours, we’ll-- It’s like taking the scenic route!”

“We’re leaving.” Kenma swallows the remainder of his sandwich hastily and swipes all the trash into the empty bag. He stomps away from the table and doesn’t wait for Bokuto to follow before heading back to the gas station parking lot up the street.

  
  


Bokuto’s spirits are dampened by the time they make it onto the highway, and Kenma starts to feel bad. Admittedly, the situation is rather funny; it would be funnier if Kuroo weren’t expecting them that evening.

In an effort to both boost Bokuto’s mood and make himself chuckle, Kenma insists on pulling over at the first major road sign they see. They clamber out of the car and pose in front of it for another selfie, ignoring the rubbernecking of other passing motorists. Kenma grins at the camera and throws up a peace sign, and Bokuto has at least enough sense to look somewhat sheepish in the background.

He sends the picture to Kuroo and receives a response soon after.

**To: Kuro [3:08 PM]**

_ Image attached _

_ so i fell asleep _

**From: Kuro [3:44 PM]**

_ FUCK HAHAHAHA oh nooooooo _

_ see this is why u shouldn’t stay up so late playing video games kenma, that way u would actually stay awake in the car and bokuto wouldn’t get you so LOST HAHAHAHA _

**To: Kuro [3:44 PM]**

_ stop laughing asshole _

_ kuro you’re not upset that we’re going to be late right _

**From: Kuro [3:47 PM]**

_ not at all dude don’t worry about it _

_ honestly i’m glad ur on this trip with bo, minus the getting super lost part lmao it’s forcing u to bond _

_ i mean ur having at least a little fun right? _

**To: Kuro [3:48 PM]**

_ no _

**From: Kuro [3:53 PM]**

_ liar _

_ ok i’m for real supposed to be working so i have to stop texting but keep me updated as necessary and tell bo i said hey _

“Kuro says hi,” Kenma says, breaking the stuffy silence in the car.

“Aww, tell my bro I said hi back!”

“He’s working.”

Bokuto pouts, but only briefly before his expression softens into something resembling pensiveness. After a moment, he asks, “Kenma, you forgive me, right?”

“Of course I forgive you, Bokuto,” Kenma answers honestly.

“Good.” Bokuto smiles. “I like hanging out with you. I know we don’t see each other much, and I know you only really talk to me because of Kuroo, but I think of you as my friend. I don’t want you to hate me or think I’m stupid.”

“I like hanging out with you, too,” is Kenma’s response. “And I don’t think any of that.”

There’s quiet again, and although it’s no longer as oppressive, Kenma reaches forward and switches the radio on anyway. Bokuto smiles a little brighter and sits a little straighter in the driver’s seat. The afternoon sun sinks lower in the sky as they drive into the mountains, toward their final destination.


	4. Somewhere between Tokyo and Osaka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ah, you see, Kenma?” Bokuto grins cheekily. “Even if I’d let go you wouldn’t fall. Cats always land--”
> 
> “--on their feet. Right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter that made me write this entire fic.

The air conditioner in Bokuto’s mom’s old sedan dies somewhere around 5:00, coughing and wheezing its last breaths before going out in a puff of black smoke, and really, that should have been the first clue.

By 6:30, they’ve made their way into the mountains of western Japan, ever-thankful for the cooler evening air rushing into the open windows. Bokuto has ditched the baseball cap in favor of letting the breeze blow through the sweat-laden spikes of his hair, and Kenma has adopted a headband to keep his own locks out of his face. It’s been a hotter than average July, but the mountain air brings some welcome relief.

Said relief is short-lived, however, and Kenma feels the blood drain from his face when, less than an hour out from Kuroo’s, the engine sputters and Bokuto has just enough time to pull over before the car stalls on the side of the empty mountain road. Bokuto tries the ignition once, twice, three times, to no avail.

“Shit,” he chuckles nervously. “Um, Kenma?”

“What happened? Did we run out of gas?”

Bokuto shakes his head. “I stopped to refill just before we started up through the mountains. You were there.”

“The battery?” Kenma feels the denial creeping its way into this throat. “You had the car on without the engine running for a while, when you got lost.”

“That was hours ago! Quit trying to pin this on me to make me feel bad. I could blame you for keeping your phone plugged in, but that would be stupid, because sometimes cars just  _ break down _ , Kenma!”

Kenma is quiet. Bokuto takes a deep breath.

“It’s fine,” he says in a voice that makes it sound more like he’s trying to reassure himself than Kenma, “I’m sure it’s an easy fix.” Then he gets out of the car, Kenma not far behind, and makes his way to the front of the vehicle. When he pops the hood, a cloud of black smoke rises out of the engine, and Bokuto coughs halfheartedly, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Shit,” he says again, and Kenma snaps.

“This is a  _ disaster _ !” he shouts at the blazing sun, throwing his arms up in exasperation.

Beside him, Bokuto is waving one hand at him placatingly, the other tapping frantically at his phone.

“It’s not, we can still salvage things,” he assures Kenma in a wholly unconvincing voice.

Kenma rounds on him, jabbing an accusatory finger toward Bokuto’s broad chest. “This is your fault!”

Bokuto backs away from his furious companion until his back collides with the driver’s side door.

“Kenma, what are you--”

“If you hadn’t insisted on us taking those detours, if you hadn’t gotten us lost, we would have made it to Kuro’s in one piece  _ hours _ ago! But no, you had to go and do what you always do, which is make things way more complicated than they need to be to satisfy your impulses. I’ve been humoring you all day because I figured it’d be worth it once we eventually got there, but now you can’t even do  _ that _ right!”

Kenma’s words echo shamefully across the empty highway. Bokuto looks defeated, and he’s silent for an agonizing few seconds before he asks, “Are you done?”

Kenma nods.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”

A breeze rustles through the trees on the side of the mountain.

“I don’t have cell service,” Bokuto says. He shuts his flip phone and pockets it.

Kenma checks his phone.

“I don’t either.” He narrows his eyes. “How does a professional athlete still have a flip phone?”

“I’ve only been on the team for, like, a few months!” Bokuto protests. “Besides, it works fine!”

“Maybe if we… Bokuto, put me on your shoulders.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

Bokuto squats down and lifts Kenma up on his broad shoulders. Kenma asks for his phone, and then he leans his weight forward so as not to fall and holds both of their phones up and out.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to get a signal. Try moving around a bit.”

“Is that going to work?”

“I don’t know. I hope so. Look, do you have a better idea?”

Bokuto shakes his head.

“Exactly.” Kenma raises his arms higher. “So help me.”

Grumbling to himself, Bokuto obliges, and they try this for a while before they both start to realize it’s pointless.

“Kenma, this isn’t working,” Bokuto whines. “Can I put you down now?”

“It’ll work, quit being impatient.”

“I will drop you.”

“No you won’t.”

“I will. I’ll let go of your legs and lean backward and you’ll fall right off!”

“Really?”

Bokuto gasps. “No, no, Kenma, of course not! I’d never hurt you, you’re my friend!”

“See? You’re even worse at empty threats than Kuro.”

“I realize that you just played me but I am going to ignore it and ask you again to PLEASE let me put you down,” Bokuto says. “You’re getting heavy. Also, you’re kinda sweaty.”

“Fine.” Kenma hands his phone back. Then, before Bokuto can even bend down all the way, he swings his legs off of Bokuto’s back and leaps down behind him, only stumbling a little bit.

“Ah, you see, Kenma?” Bokuto grins cheekily. “Even if I’d let go you wouldn’t fall. Cats always land--”

“--on their feet. Right.”

Kenma and Bokuto stare at each other for a moment in an extremely one-sided standoff, Bokuto still smiling wide and Kenma fighting back his own laughter. Bokuto, as usual, is the first to speak.

“Now what? We could walk until we find help, or we could stay here and wait for someone to come by or for one of us to get a signal.”

Kenma doesn’t answer. He sits himself down at the edge of the highway, facing westward toward the setting sun. He feels more than sees Bokuto drop down beside him. The sun has painted the sky a pinkish orange, casting a soft glow over the countryside. It would be beautiful if Kenma weren’t in such a bad mood, if he weren’t so worried, if he weren’t so scared.

“The sunset’s nice, isn’t it?” Bokuto says. He knocks their shoulders together. “Hey, don’t be upset. We  _ will _ make it there, you know that, right?”

“I know,” Kenma says.

Bokuto hums as he considers this, and then he presses, “But that’s not it?”

Kenma shrugs.

“It’s not just you, you know.” Bokuto leans back on his hands. “I mean, it feels like last summer was just yesterday. Now, pretty soon, I’m going to be moving to Osaka to train for this season. Living in a dorm, in a new city, not knowing anyone, fighting to even have one shot at making it big.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Probably. Does it make a difference if it hasn’t happened yet?” The look on Bokuto’s face is pensive, almost wistful, like he’s thought about this a lot and has come to terms with his own uncertainty. “Tokyo’s awfully far from Osaka. Kuroo’s already off on his own, all my other friends. You and ‘Kaashi, too, who knows where you’ll both be in a year. And so, well, this is it, I guess. One last adventure before we’re all too busy to waste time being young.”

“That’s why you wanted to take all those detours?”

Bokuto nods.

Kenma looks away, watching the sun dip further below the horizon. “I mean, this doesn’t have to be it. We’ll still be around, you know?”

“In that case I guess you have nothing to worry about.”

“Huh. I guess not.”

The last sliver of sunlight disappears, dying the sky a deep purple, then black. As their eyes adjust to the fading twilight, one by one the stars appear, shining bright overhead like a million fireflies. 

“I can see why Kuro wanted to come here to study,” Kenma says quietly.

“Yeah?” Bokuto follows his line of sight up to the night sky. “Ah, it’s beautiful.”

Up in the mountains the skies are dark and the air is clear. The roads are empty, and they’re stranded.

“Everything will be fine,” Kenma says more to himself than anything else.

“It will,” Bokuto affirms anyway. Then he says, “I’m going to become a more reliable person, more headstrong. And do you think next summer, even when things are very different, we can come here again? Me, you, Akaashi, to visit Kuroo and see the sights? I won’t get us lost next time.”

“I’d like that,” Kenma says, and he means it.

It’s quiet, then. Neither of them say very much, just watching night descend on the countryside and the never-ending stars twinkling overhead. They’re tired, and they’re stranded, and as they teeter on the precipice of adulthood things are very much uncertain. But for a moment, just a moment, as they sit suspended halfway between Tokyo and Osaka on a clear summer’s night, it’s peaceful, and Kenma feels at ease. Everything is fine.


	5. One More For The Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma forces his anger down deep into his stomach. It’s not Bokuto’s fault, it really isn’t--but his skin has a layer of sweat and grime on it by now, mingling with his numerous bug bites, and he’d really like to get to Kuroo’s apartment so he can take a shower and collapse on the first soft surface he sees. He’s also bordering on ravenous, having not eaten since lunch, but that’s neither here nor there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops! i got very busy! at last, here's the last chapter. thanks for reading!

After what feels like hours, Bokuto and Kenma manage to catch the attention of a couple driving down the road who kindly stop and help them get the car towed to the nearest auto shop, a stout small-town garage about 20 minutes away. The moment Kenma gets signal, he swipes away an endless barrage of notifications and voicemails from Kuroo and calls him, and then his best friend’s voice comes crackling through the speaker.

_ “Kenma!”  _ he shouts, as if Kenma wouldn’t hear him otherwise.  _ “What the fuck happened? I haven’t heard from you since, like, four! Where are you guys? Are you okay?” _

“Kuro.” Kenma cuts him off. “We’re fine. The car broke down and we didn’t have any signal.”

_ “Shit, Kenma. Where’s Bo? Where are you guys? Do you need me to come get you?” _

Kenma looks over to where Bokuto is talking animatedly with the mechanic. “I told you, we’re fine. Bokuto is talking to a mechanic now. I can send you my location?”

_ “Okay, yeah. Look, do you want me to pick you up? I can borrow my friend’s car.” _

“You’re a bad driver.”

_ “She doesn’t have to know that. Seriously, are you sure you’re okay?” _

“We are. I am,” Kenma says. “Or, I will be. Today was just weird, you know?”

_ “God, yeah. This whole year is weird. Getting older is weird. I don’t know.” _

Leave it to Kuroo to be on Kenma’s wavelength when it counts, he thinks. “You’re right,” he says, and then the other line is quiet for a moment, save for Kuroo’s breathing.

“But we’ll be fine,” Kenma tacks on, and this seems to surprise Kuroo, because he chuckles.

_ “Yeah,”  _ he says.  _ “We’re gonna be just fine.” _

“I should go see what the status of the car is.”

_ “Okay. Will you call me back or text me if anything--” _

“You’ll get an update as soon as there is one, Kuro. I promise. Now quit worrying.”

_ “Okay, fine, fine. I’ll see you soon.” _

Kenma hangs up at just the right moment, as Bokuto walks over to him, cap lifted off his head as he scratches at his scalp. His hair has deflated, weighed down by sweat and exhaustion where it’s been contained under his hat all day long. There are bags under his eyes, and the thought crosses Kenma’s mind belatedly that he’s never seen Bokuto look this tired before, not even after the longest days of summer camp or the most intense prefectural qualifiers.

Not for the first time that day, he feels bad.

“Any updates?” he asks when Bokuto is within earshot.

Bokuto sighs, rubs at his eyes, and resituates the cap on his head.

“Something with the engine,” he supplies unhelpfully. “I don’t know, they explained it more but I don’t really get cars at all, so I kind of stopped listening. I don’t care, so long as they fix it.”

“How long will that take?”

Bokuto shrugs and drops onto one of the hard plastic chairs by the entrance to the garage. “An hour, maybe, to replace the engine.”

Kenma forces his anger down deep into his stomach. It’s not Bokuto’s fault, it really isn’t--but his skin has a layer of sweat and grime on it by now, mingling with his numerous bug bites, and he’d  _ really _ like to get to Kuroo’s apartment so he can take a shower and collapse on the first soft surface he sees. He’s also bordering on ravenous, having not eaten since lunch, but that’s neither here nor there.

“I can ask Kuro to come pick us up?” he offers instead.

Bokuto actually snorts at this. “He’s an awful driver.”

“That’s what I told him!”

They stare at each other for a moment before breaking into peals of laughter. Kenma takes a seat beside Bokuto and sets his backpack between his feet. It’s quiet, save for the mechanics working in the back, and Kenma can hear the distant cicadas chirping outside.

“I really am sorry,” he finds himself saying to fill the quiet space between them. “For what I said earlier.”

“And I’m sorry for getting us lost,” Bokuto says. “And for taking us on so many detours and wasting our time.”

Kenma shakes his head. “You don’t have to apologize for that last part. I had fun, in a stupid sort of way.”

It’s quiet again, until Kenma relents and pulls out his phone.

He holds it up and asks, “One more for the road? I should probably send Kuro photographic proof that we’re alive before he worries so hard he astral projects himself all the way out here.”

Bokuto chuckles and grins a mile wide. “Sure.”

Kenma opens his camera and Bokuto positions himself in the frame, lowering his head so that it’s in line with Kenma’s. Both of them are smiling, tired and sweaty and aggravated, but smiling nonetheless. Privately, Kenma decides he’s going to frame it on his desk (and ABSOLUTELY hide it when Kuroo visits) as a memory, and opens his text messages.

**From: Kuro [6:36 PM]**

_ hey, are you gonna be here soon? _

**From: Kuro [6:48 PM]**

_ kenma?? weren’t you supposed to text me by now _

**From: Kuro [7:12 PM]**

_ are you okay??? _

_ i’m worried kenma _

_ kenmaaaaaa _

_ kenma answer your phone please _

**From: Kuro [7:34 PM]**

_ ok i know signal in the mountains is shit _

_ but either way you should have gotten to town by now _

_ i’m just freaking out a little!!! Nbd _

**To: Kuro [8:08 PM]**

_ [image attached] _

_ proof we are alive and well _

_ car will be fixed in an hour(?) _

**From: Kuro [8:08 PM]**

_ never been so happy to see your sweaty gross faces :’) _

Smiling, Kenma pockets his phone and pulls his DS out of his backpack. Bokuto leans over his shoulder and watches him play Zelda in silence until the car is ready. When they clamber inside, Bokuto turns the key and the engine springs to life, humming like music to Kenma’s ears. With the end of the road in sight, they back out of the garage and get back onto the highway. Neither of them speak much, but the air feels lighter; Kenma feels different, like a part of him that had been weighing him down was melted away under the simmering July sun.

Bokuto rolls the windows down, and the mountain night carries the day’s strife out with it on the cool breeze. Kenma grabs Bokuto’s mom’s 2000s pop mixtape out of the glove compartment, inserts it into the CD drive, and presses play.

.

.

.

.

.

(They do stop for ramen on the way home. It’s the best Kenma’s ever had.)


End file.
